Timeless Nation |
APPENDIX
(NOTES, DOCUMENTATION, SELECTED TEXTS IN ENGLISH TRANSLATION)
THE UNSUNG SAGA
1. From: "Selected Hungarian Legends" F. B. Kovacs ed., transl. by E. Wass de Czege, Danubian Press, Astor Park, 1971.
CHAPTER 1
1. Prof. Gy. Laszlo: "A Kettos Honfoglalasrol" ("The two Conquests"), "Archeologiai Ertesito", 97, pp.161-190; Prof. P. Liptak: "Origin and development of the Hungarian People", "Homo" XXI (4), pp. 197-210.
CHAPTER 4
1. Recent historical research throws a different light upon this covenant. It seems that the Hungarian tribal federation was led, in the IXth century, by a (nominal) head of state, the "kende", who shared his rule with the military commander, the "gyula" (or "horka"). At the time of the Settlement the "kende" was Kurszan (Kusid or Kursan), and the "gyula" was Almos, then his son, Arpad, who planned and conducted the military operations of the conquest. "Kende" Kurszan was killed during a raid in 904 and "gyula" Arpad became the sole ruler of the new nation. After having secured the succession for his son (Solt or Zoltan), he conferred the office of the "gyula" on another tribal chief. (Cf. the "Gyula" mentioned in chapters 4, 5 and 14). The "Blood Treaty" may have been fully or partly invented by the medieval chroniclers in order to justify the succession of the Arpad dynasty.
CHAPTER 6
1. Yonder lies a round, black (I) sward. An enchanted stag grazes on it. His marvelous head carries a thousand antlers. On the thousand antlers a thousand mass-candles burn without being lit and they go out by themselves.
My hiding place is the old law,
hola, I hide in songs!
(Recorded in Zala county, Transdanubia).
Get up father, get up mother, the Ancient Ones have come.
My hiding place is the old law, I hide in songs!
(Recorded in Udvarhely county, Transylvania).
Stork, stork, turtle-dove,
Why are your feet bleeding?
Turkish children cut them,
Magyar children heal them,
With pipes, drums, and reed violins .
Tall is the ruta" tree leaning over the great sea.
Fair Ilona Magyar wears a crown of pearls
In her golden-silky hair .
(Recorded in Nyitra county, Northern Hungary).
CHAPTER 7
Sandor Petofi: (In Hungarian:)
Szeptember végén
Még nyílnak a völgyben a kerti virágok,
Meg zöldel a nyírfa az ablak alatt,
De latod amottan a téli világot?
Már hó el takará a bérci tetôt.
Meg ifju szivemben a lángsugaru nyár
S meg benne virít az egesz kikelet,
De íme, sötét hajam ôszbe vegyül már,
A tel dere már megüté fejemet.
Elhull a virág, eliramlik az élet
Ülj, hitvesem, ülj az ölembe ide!
Ki most fejedet keblemre tevéd le,
Holnap nem omolsz-e slrom fölibe?
Oh mondd: ha elöbb halok el, tetemimre
Könnyezve boritasz-e szemfödelet?
S rábírhat-e majdan egy ifjú szerelme,
Hogy elhagyod érte az én nevemet?
Ha eldobod egykor az özvegyi fátyolt,
Fejfámra sötét lobogóul akaszd,
En felfövök érte a síri világból
Az éj kösepén oda leviszem azt,
Letörleni vele konnyüimet érted,
Ki könnyedén elfeleded hívedet,
S e szív sebeit bekötözni, ki téged
Meg akkor is, ott is, örökre szeret!
(In English:) At the End of September
Garden flowers still bloom in the valley;
The poplar is still verdant at the window;
But can you see the winter world over there?
Already the peaks are covered with snow.
My young heart is still filled with summer rays
And within it the whole springtime in blossom.
But lo, my dark hair is flecked with grey
And my head has been struck with winters frost.
The flower drops and past life races
Sit, my wife, sit here on my lap now!
Will you, who on my breast her head places,
Not bend over my grave tomorrow?
0, tell me, if I die before you,
Will you cover my body with a shroud - weeping?
And will love of a youth sometime cause you
To abandon my name for his keeping?
If one time you cast oft your widows veil,
Let it hang from my headstone, a banner!
I will come up from the world of the grave
In the dead of the night and take it with me
To wipe from my face the tears shed for you,
Who has lightly forgotten her devotee,
And to bind the wound in the heart of one,
Who still then in that place, loves you forever.
(Transl. by Paul Desney).
Endre Ady:(In Hungarian): A föl-földobott kô"
Föl-földobott kô, földedre hullva,
Kicsi országom újra meg újra
Hazajön fiad.
Messze tornyokat látogat sorba,
Szédül,elbúsong s lehull a porba,
Amelyböl vétetett.
Mindig elvágyik s nem menekülhet,
Magyar vágyakkal, melyek elülnek
S fölhorgadnak megint.
Tied vagyok én nagy haragomban,
Nagy hûtlenségben, szerelmes gondban
Szomorúan magyar.
Föl-földobott kô, bús akaratlan,
Kisci országom, példás alakban
Te orcádra ütök.
És, jaj, hiába mindenha szándék;
Százszor földobnál, én visszaszálnék
Százszor is, végül is.
(In English): The Outcast Stone
The stone cast up into the air comes down to earth;
Again and again your son will return,
To you, my little land.
He visits distant towers one by one and then
Reels crestfallen and drops into the dust again,
From which you toss him up.
Always breaking loose, he cannot get away,
With his Magyar cravings which die down?
Only to take hold of him again.
I am yours in great anger and defection,
In unfaithfulness, unfortunately Magyar
Weighed down by thoughts of love.
A stone driven upwards unwittingly,
By way of example, my small country,
I fall back onto you.
And whatever the intention, its all in vain
For though I am tossed away a hundred times,
I will alight until the last.
(Transl. by Paul Desney).
Attila József:(In Hungarian):
Születésnapomra
Harminckét éves lettem én -
meglepetés e költemény
csecse
becse:
ajándék mellyel meglepem
e kávéházi szegleten
magam
magam.
Harminckét évem elszelelt
s még havi kétszáz sose telt
Az ám,
Hazám!
Lehettem volna oktató,
nem ily töltôtoll-koptató
szegény
legény
De nem lettem, mert Szegeden
eltanácsolt az egyetem
fura
ura.
Intelme gyorsan, nyersen ért
a "Nincsen apám" versemért,
a hont
kivont
szabályával óvta ellenem
Ideidézi szellemem
hevét
s nevet:
"Ön, amIg szóból értek én,
nem lesz tanár e földtekén" -
gagyog
s ragyog.
Ha örül Horger Antal úr,
hogy költônk nem nyelvtant tanúl
sekély
e kéj -
Én egésznépemet fogom
nem középiskolás fokon
tani-
tani!
(In English): For my Birthday
I am thirty-two, how nice:
this poem is a fine surprise,
a bric -
a brac.
A gift to surprise now in jingle
in thIs lonely cafe ingle
my self
myself.
My thirty-two years went away
without earning a decent pay.
How grand,
Homeland!
I could have been a teacher then
not one who lives by fountain-pen
as I,
poor guy.
But so happened at Szeged town
the Varsity boss sent me down,
funny
man he!
His warning roughly, rudely came,
for my "I have no God" poem
his hand
the land
defended boldly and with rage.
I quote herewith for future age his theme and name:
"As long as I have here:
a say you wont be a teacher" turned away
muttered,
stuttered.
Should Mr. Horger gloat with glee
that grammatics is not for me,
his bliss
dismiss.
For my words the entire nation
beyond high school education -
will reach
to teach.
(Transl. by Egon Kunz).
CHAPTER 12
Though they stoke the fire,
Still it dies away;
There is not that love
Which does not pass away.
Love, oh love, oh love,
Accursed misery,
Why do you not flower
On the leaves of every tree?
(Northern Hungary. Transl. by Paul Desney)
Soft spring winds are waters wooing,
My flower, my darling.
Birds are choosing, mates
My flower, my darling.
Whom shall I choose then
My flower, my darling.
You choose me and I choose you, Dear,
My flower, my darling.
(Moldavia, a Csango-Szekely song. Transl. by J. C. Toth)
Gazing round the battlefield of Doberdo,
I admire the starry heavens wonder bow;
Starry heavens, lead me to my Magyar country,
Show me where my darling mother weeps for me!
Dearest mother, wonder where my end shall be?
Where my crimson blood shall flow away from me?
In the heart of Poland you will find me buried;
Dearest mother, never, never weep for me!
(Bekes county, Southern Hungary, Transl. by J. C. Toth).
The bird is free to fly
From branch to branch,
But I am not allowed
To visit my beloved.
God bless, oh bless my Lord
The house of my beloved,
But strike God, strike
Those who live in it.
Not even all of those,
But only her mother;
Why has she not given
Me her only daughter?
if she is her daughter,
My lover is she too;
if she is dear to her,
Dearer is she to me.
(Transylvania. Transl. by Paul Desney).
I have left my lovely homeland!
Left a famous little old land;
Sadly I turned once more to see
Through my falling tears its beauty.
Bitter food and bitter my days!
On and on their bitter tang stays;
Tearfully I gaze at the sky,
Numbering the stars as they die.
(Bekes county, Southern Hungary. Transl. by J. C. Toth).
Rain is falling, softly gently falling,
Spring will soon be coming; How I wish I were a rose bud,
In your garden blooming!
Rose, my Dear, I cannot be,
Franz Joseph is withring me
in his famous great Vienna barracks
Boasting of three stories!
(Bekes county, Southern Hungary. Transl. by J. C. Toth).
I shall plow the kings court with my sighs;
Sow it with my countrys bitter cries;
Let him see and know, the great empror!
What grows in the heart of his Magyar.
Sorrow grows in it from sorrows seeds;
Wounded is the Magyar heart, it bleeds;
Take, 0 Lord, the king and emperor!
Let him not oppress his poor Magyar!
(Gomor county, Northern Hungary. Transl. by J. C. Toth).
Jolly hussar, jolly hussar, jolly when hes dancing;
Jingling saber jingling saber, jingling as hes prancing;
Jingling, jingling, go on jingling, click your, click your spurs too!
Louis Kossuths listing crew is making music rouse you.
(Veszprem county, Western Hungary. An 1848 song. Transl. by J.C Toth).
There where I am passing, even trees are weeping.
From their tender branches golden leaves are falling.
Weeps the road before me, grieves the path forlornly;
Even they are saying: Farewell, God be with thee.
(Csik county, Szekely district. Transl. by J. C. Toth).
Im a goin, goin, far away a goin,
From the dust of roamin, Ive a mantle formin!
All my grief and sorrow, sadly twine around it,
While my falling tears drop buttons shining on it.
(Csik county, Szekely district. Transl. by J. C. Toth).
Leaves and branches make a forest;
Grief and sorrow mould the heart best;
Grief and sorrow, like a light breeze,
Where I go they follow with ease.
Gleaming sun is on the meadow
Shines on ev'ry maidens window;
Tell me, 0 Lord: why not on mine?
Why does mine not see the sunshine?
(Bukovina, a Csango-Szekely song. Transl. by I. C. Toth).
How I wish I were a morning star-beam!
I would shine on you, my dear, when you dream;
I would shine on you early, right early;
One last kiss, Id ask you then to give me.
(Great Plain. Transl. by J. C. Toth).
Fragrant are the woods when they are green!
Lovely when the wild doves nest is seen!
Like a dove a maiden longs to be
Close beside her lover constantly!
I am not to blame for being sad!
Only Mother is, for if she had
Given me to my own chosen love,
I would be as happy as a dove!
(Nyitra county, Northern Hungary. Transl. by J. C. Toth)
Leaving with the waning of the morning star,
My dear love is walking to her home afar.
Shining boots are gleaming on her pretty feet;
Glowing starlight beams up on my little sweet.
This I wish for you my dearest, evry day:
Lush green meadow, turn to roses on your way.
Fresh green grass too, rosy apples for you grow;
And your heart will never forget I love you so!
(Bekes county, Great Plain. Transl. by J. C. Toth).
Lovely leaves and branches make a citron tree!
Dearest heart, how can they part us, you and me?
Like the star when parted from its shining beams,
So shall I be parted from my sweetest dreams.
(Bukovina, a Szekely-Csango song. Transl. by J.C. Toth).
Cricket lad is marrying Lord Mosquitos daughter,
Slipping, slopping is the louse, best man should be smarter;
Jerking, jumping up the flea, best man, too; pretending;
Evry kind of ugly bug wants to be attending.
(Tolna county, Transdanubia: humour. Transl. by J. C. Toth).
Rugged rock a-looming, roses on it blooming:
Love is such a splendid thing!
Love is but a dream though, if youve never known its glow;
0 how sad if it is so!
(Nyitra county, Northern Hungary. Transl. by J. C. Toth).
CHAPTER 14
Cf. Vopiscus: "Vita Aureliani" 39:(Aurelianus)"... provinciam Daciam a Traiano constitutam sublato exercitu et provincialibus reliquit. . ." Also: Eutropias IX. ". . . abductosque Romanos ex urbibus et agris Daciae. . ." These and other contemporary Roman and Greek historians state that emperor Aurelianus evacuated the entire Roman population both from the towns and rural areas of Dacia.
According to F. J. Suizer (Geschichte Daciens, Vienna, (1781) and E. R. Rosler (Rumanusche Studien; Leipzig, 1871), the original home of the Vlach (Wallachian, Rumanian) people was in the south of the Balkan peninsula (between Albania, Greece and Bulgaria). After the IXth century these nomadic herdsmen moved to the north and northeast. One branch crossed the lower Danube and moved into the Wallachian Plain (between the Carpathians and the lower Danube). A Byzantian source (Anna Comnena) mentions them here first in the XIth century. From here some of them crossed the Transylvanian mountains into Hungary. A Hungarian document from. 1224 mentions first the presence of some Viach shepherds in the Fogaras district (south-western Transylvania). (Cf. Zathureczky: Transylvania. Anderson Research Center, University of Florida, 1963).
According to the Rumanian linguist Cihac, the vocabulary of the Rumanian language contains 45.7% words of Slavonic origin and only 31.5% of Latin origin.
Thats how the Hungarians sow
Their oats. very slowly!
Thats how the Hungarians reap
Their oats very slowly!
Thats how the wife
Steals the oats, steals the oats!
Thats how the wife
Drinks its price, drinks its price!
It is time to go And to get married.
The question is only Whom should I marry?
If I marry a town girl,
She cant spin, weave,
Ill have to buy my
Pantaloons myself.
If I marry an old one
Shell be always sullen,
And whenever shell speak,
itll be like thunder.
Only one hope I have
To keep me going,
Ill remain a bachelor,
Forever, perhaps . .
(Extracts)
Timeless Nation |